


"The Divine Proxy"

by KuhakuKun



Category: Original Work
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Dungeons, Fantasy, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9903365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuhakuKun/pseuds/KuhakuKun
Summary: A little bit of setup for what I hope can become a novel.





	1. Chapter 1

“What do you do when facing a Twice-Shielded Krangle?” Stallone asked, moping the sweat off his forehead with an old rag.  
“Is it an adult?” I fired back.  
“Yes,” he said with a smile, knowing I had caught on.  
“Run away!” I answered triumphantly. “Because once a Krangle reaches adulthood, it develops a second layer of armor, making it almost impenetrable, hence the name, “twice-shielded.””  
“Which is why it is a good thing the beast are both slow and rather passive.” Stallone offered me the rag and bucket of cold water. I graciously accepted both.  
It was one of the hottest days in recent memory, so father had given everyone the day off. Stallone and I took the opportunity to spar with axes. We were currently taking a short break from the rigorous exercise.  
My father, like my axe-wielding friend here, had once been an adventurer. For reasons never explained to me, he retired, long before I was born. I have always assumed it had something to do with the same incident that cost him an arm and a leg, literally. That had also never been explained.  
So, Father had decided to use the small fortune he had earned from adventuring to start a lumber company that only hired retired or otherwise disabled adventurers. It gives them a sense of purpose, something active to do in their old age. Which is a luxury most adventurers do not get to enjoy, unfortunately.  
This has led to quite an interesting childhood though. While most children would have spent their childhoods working a farm or studying for apprenticeships as blacksmiths or carpenters, I spent mine listening to stories from some of the most veteran adventurers of the age. I also received a good deal of training. I had a decent understanding of most weapons, monsters, and ways to survive dungeons. So, I guess it comes as no surprise when I say I want to be an adventurer. Slaying monsters, finding treasure; these are the dreams I have harbored since a young age. And I intend on pursuing them, which brings us to the now.  
“Why do most dual-wielders, at least the axe ones, carry three axes?” Stallone questioned, rising from the overturned box he had been resting on.  
“In case one breaks or is lost?” I guessed, not quite sure.  
“No, if that happens, you don’t deserve to use the weapons. Do you remember the first rule of adventuring?”  
“Take care of your equipment!” We both recited, in unison.  
“Let me ask you a different question. What is one essential thing they lack?” This was how most of the adventurers here taught me; minimal help, forcing me to figure out things myself. I never complained; I took their challenges readily.  
I thought about the question for a while, feeling the warm, sultry breeze tickle its way across my back.  
“…not having range?”  
“Exactly! In most fights, the first blow is often the final. It is important to have a way to initiate, and if possible, end the fight before your attacker can get close enough to be a real threat. Or in the case you are outnumbered, taking out even a single opponent can end up being the difference between life and death. So now, we are going to practice throwing." Stallone strode over and picked up the small piece of lumber that he had set to the side earlier, and rested it on a nearby fencepost.  
"Now Fenneck," he said, handing me a smaller axe. "There are many different variables when it comes to axe throwing, but the most important is your rotation."  
"Rotation? And why is this axe smaller?" I asked as we stepped a few paces away from the target.  
"Your rotation is how many feet it takes for your axe to spin in one...well rotation. The power, your reach, the weapons, all play an important role, but we are just going over the basics. And it is smaller because that axe is specifically made for throwing, but still holds out in a pinch." Stallone grabbed my arm and mimicked throwing the axe, giving me a feel for it.  
"We can figure out your rotation later, for now we will work on form. Go ahead and give it a few throws." So, I did. A few hit here and there, making me feel a bit confident. Stallone stopped me after a while, and I prepared myself to have my confidence crushed.  
"Three things. First, good on the aim, I see ***'s archery lessons are paying off. Second, when you throw, never, ever flick your wrist! It throws off your aim. Lastly, when you throw, give it everything you have got. The way you are throwing is fine for just hitting targets, but when it comes to a real life scenario, that wouldn't scratch a turtle." He paused as I smiled at his choice of example. "Strange choice, I know, but you get the idea" I nodded. "Even if you get the rotation off, you want to hard enough to give them pause." Stallone looked up into the sky, and noting the lateness, patted me in the shoulder and gave me his farewell. "Continue practicing if you wish, but it is too *** hot out here for me, so I will be heading home."  
"What about your throwing axe?" I called out to his well-muscled back.  
"Keep it! Think of it as an early birthday present!" He threw back over his shoulder.  
I grinned. It was getting rather close to my birthday, wasn't it? I would be turning fifteen in the next couple of days, and it was time for Father and I to start discussing y future.  
After a few more hours, I decided to return home. It was beginning to grow dark, and the heat had not diminished whatsoever.  
Unlike the rest of the workers, Father and I lived on the property itself; it would be foolish not to.  
So, I only had to walk for a few minutes before I arrived at the two-story, cobblestone house. The top story was our sleeping and living quarters, while the bottom was my father's office, so it came as no surprise when the first sight to greet me as I made my way through the door was my large, bearlike father, hunched over, scribbling at his desk.  
He struggled to rise from his chair to greet me as I made my way through the hallway.  
"No need Father, I am on my way to bathe anyways."  
"Alright," he said, lowering himself back into his seat. "I just need to finish up some paperwork here. The stew by the fire is almost ready, so when you are done we can eat. We also have some important matters to discuss."  
"Yes sir." I grabbed a pail and headed outside to the well to fetch some water. While doing so, I puzzled at what these "important matters" entailed. Maybe Father and I were thinking the same thing.

 

"So how was your day off, Ferrick?" My father asked, handing me a bowl of stew. I smiled, Father was the only person that called me by my real name, making it seem special. Everyone calls me Fennick, on account of my smaller-than-average frame, and quickness. My mother, who passed away a few years ago, always called me Fen.  
"Fun. Stallone and I sparred with axes and practiced throwing."  
"Interesting," my father said thoughtfully, taking a seat at the table. "Have you practiced your forms today?"  
"No," I replied, shaking my head and preparing to hear with I am told at least once a week. "I had planned on doing them later tonight."  
"Make sure to do so, your mother left you with a gift that is too precious to go to waste."  
My mother had come from a long and well-established line of mages, all of which were remarkably powerful. I was no exception, so while I was still too young to receive formal training, my father made sure I at least practiced the basic forms every day. Because my mother had eloped with my father, her side of the family was never very welcoming.  
Father finished eating and set his bowl aside, leaning back and almost visibly growing serious.  
“Now, Son, I want to talk about your future. We both know you are about to reach the age at which you can become an apprentice.” I perked up, wishing, praying, that my wish would be granted. That the thing I had been dreaming of for, as long as I could remember, could come true.  
“I know you want to be an adventurer, more than anything, Ferrick. I know how you feel, but hear me out.”  
I deflated. My joy, anticipation, excitement, all of it, gone. I loved this man, my father, and I would never be able to go against his will, so to know he would not support my dream, especially one he himself had shared, was one of the most crushing experiences in my life. I am ashamed to admit I started to cry, dropping my gaze to the table.  
Father sighed and reached over the table, enveloping my hands in his.  
“Look at me, raise your eyes, Son. Because me when I say, every fiber of my being wants to let you be an adventurer, but I can’t. I made a promise and it is one I would rather die before breaking. Come, let me explain.” He stood up and strode off so I slowly rose and trailed after. I was surprised to find I was extremely interested in what he had to say, in a dejected, depressed kind of way.


	2. Chapter One Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen's Father explains a certain promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the asterisks, they are there for things I do not currently have names for. If you have a good one, and don't mind me using it, feel free to help!

Father led me to the, “Bear-Cave,” as the others called it. It was his office, but also where he kept the mementos of his adventuring days. My personal favourite was the stuffed eel shark my father killed when exploring an underwater temple.  
“Sit down,” my father said, pointing to one of the chairs across the desk. As I sat he also took a seat, lowering himself with a weary sigh.  
“Story time. As I’m quite sure you are aware, I have never told you the story behind my retirement. I wanted to save it for this moment.”  
I sat up straighter as I realized one of the biggest questions of my life was about to be answered.  
“As you already know, I used to be an adventurer. I still remember when I was a young lad, a few years older than you, setting off. I had my father’s sword, a leather cuirass, and a handful of gold. At the beginning, it was quite rough, but getting started is always the hardest part. Eventually though, someone joined my party. And the another, and another, until, after a while, we had a full-fledged party!  
In case you couldn’t tell,” my father continued patting his impressive waistline, “I fit quite well into the Vanguard role. My party grew fairly famous, in fact. We lost members, *+*+* rest their souls, gained new ones; constantly growing better equipped, and increasingly experienced for more challenging dungeons. Although unfortunately, the only way to know your limit is to reach it, and we went well passed ours.”  
My father’s eyes grew distant as he recalled scenes better left forgotten. He began to massage the spot where he lost his arm, something he only did when he was agitated.  
“It was a few years before you were born. My party had been on a rather successful streak of mission completing. As far as adventuring goes, our group was on the safer side, only takin on missions we knew we could safely complete. It was rare for us to lose a member. As a team, we decided it was time to take on harder missions, so we took one that had been on the board for a few years. It was SS, if I remember correctly. It was a quest the kingdom had requested, actually. Our objective was to destroy the nest of a rather nasty lot of giant spiders. They had plaguing the area for years after the evil sorceress who had been controlling them had been defeated. The reward for destroying whatever way these spiders were reproducing was a hefty one, reason enough for us to take on a quest like this.   
After a few days of preparation, we set out. Our first goal was to locate where, exactly, this nest of sorts was. And after a week of searching, we did.” Father shifted in his seat, pausing to massage his brow before continuing. “It took us a few minutes to cut down the entrance to the cave we hoped was the source of the spiders. What we were greeted with was a sight that still haunts me to my soul. It was pitch black, so dark not even the sunlight could pierce its murky depths. I find it difficult to describe with words, but it was more than that. It was as if this darkness consumed all that entered it. Hope, life, goodness…the evil miasma radiating from this cave mouth was palpable, from the chill it sent down our spines to the papery dryness in our mouths. We looked at each other and knew some of us would not leave this awful place. If only…if only we had turned back, then; things would have been so much more different.” He faltered here, looking at nothing as if he was reliving the moment where his party collectively made the worst decision of their lives, and not for the first time. After a few minutes my father looked up, shaking himself out of his reprieve. He refocused his eyes on me, asking where he left off.  
“You were just about to enter the cave,” I said quietly, never seeing my father like this before.  
“Ah, yes, the entrance. Well, we gathered our courage and lit the torches. We had enough fuel to last us three hours, so we knew we had to make this as quick as possible. Most of us had enough basic knowledge in mage craft for Magelight, but as you probably know that is a last case scenario.  
Magelight only lights enough for you to see your hand in front of you. We made way down safely for about twenty minutes before calamity struck.” Hand gripping the arm of the chair so tight his hand turned white and the wood began to crack, unconsciously, probably, he pushed on. “They came in waves, hordes; ranging from the size of my arm to the size of my torso. We fought in Lugerian Formation.”  
I nodded to show my understanding. Lugerian Formation was a basic military move popularized by Lugerian (of course) militias when their country was under heavy assault by Kobolds. It places melee (Vanguard, Berserker, Dual Wielders) in a protective shell around healers, mages, and other longer ranged party members, allowing them to do their jobs unhindered. The formation is easy to learn, quick to execute, and extremely effective against large amounts of enemies.  
“We had been fighting for about fifteen minutes when torches went out, and with no one being able to reflect them, we were forced to continue by Magelight. Imagine how terrifying that is, fighting when the only thing you can see is your hands in front of you and the only thing you can hear is the hissing and screaming of spiders melding with the jagged panting of your party. After about forty-five minutes we grew desperate. The spiders had a poison that would drain you of your stamina., and everyone had taken hits. The party had two healers, but they can only do so much. Eventually, one of pur three mages realized we were on the verge of falling apart and used Expel ****. It worked, slaying gods knows how many of those beast, slowing the onslaught down until it finally stopped. I would say we fought for a little over an hour, before it all ended. We lost two members, a third succumbed to poison before he could be saved, and the mage burned herself out.”  
My eyes widened at the mention of Expel ****, a spell even the most novice spell-caster could use, but in the hands of a master, is devastating. It has its drawbacks though. As the name implies, the user expels all remaining ***, which is the energy in all living things that fuels a casters spells, causing a violent wave of raw energy that harms all things the caster views as hostile. **** is closely entwined with the soul though, so ejecting it so violently can have fatal consequences. The more **** you have, the worse it is. From how powerful of an effect this mage’s use had, her entire body must have been burnt beyond recognition.  
When my father mentioned how long they had fought, my eyes grew even wider. Fighting for that long, at full power, against that many enemies? Impressive by anyone’s standards. My father does not boast, so to hear him doing such a feat gave me more respect to a man I already respected more than any other.  
“We pushed on, determined not to let our comrade’s sacrifices be in vain. In total, we fought off another two ambushes like the first, but not nearly as ferocious. Losing an additional two members before we did so, we finally made it to the end. What we saw was one of the most hellish abominations I have ever had the misfortune of facing, in all twenty years of my adventuring. It was a spider at least the size of…about…” He shook his, abandoning his attempt at describing the magnitude of the creature.  
“It was big, okay? And believe me when I say, bugs only get uglier the bigger they get. There was an enormous black Jet on its, what I assumed was, forehead. From the evil aura that this thing was giving off, we immediately realized that that was the source of its power. The problem was getting to it. This wasn’t the first time we had taken out a large-multilegged monster, and even with only half of the party, on top of us being exhausted, we made short work if it. I, as the one able to take the most punishment, would bait the beast, while being supported by our healer.   
Our faster members would cut of the legs, one by one, while it was distracted, and anytime it tried to retaliate, our mage would harass it from a distance, or I would remind it I was also a threat.  
The only casualty was when one of our people weren’t fast enough, and got speared by the bugger. For its size, that spider was surprisingly quick.  
Finally, we took the abomination down; once it was slain, the Jet just popped out. And this is where we made our greatest mistake. Immediately after the gem came out, one of our party members went to crush it. He was a fair distance away, but I still reached my arm out and yelled for him to stop.” He raised his stump of an arm. “That was the only thing that saved me, along with the fact that I wore the heaviest armor. After a few moments, I awoke to find myself missing a few limbs. I was in shock, so I did not feel the pain and did my best to patch myself up after casting a Magelight. When I finished, I was so exhausted that I was barely able to drag myself to a nearby wall before I passed out.  
I don’t know how long I was out, but what woke me was at first was a feeling. A feeling of such pure evil, it made me feel unclean to be in the same room as it. Being drained of *** and my physical energy, I accepted my death in that cold, dark cave. I knew I was the only one that survived the explosion, and the chance of someone saving me was minimal at best. Even if I was saved, did I deserve to live? I had been the leader of my party, and I had failed. These people, no, my friends, had entrusted me with their lives until the very end, and I had failed them.   
Eventually, the evil presence was accompanied with a sight; a strange glowing light. Across the room, above one of comrade’s body was a dark, unrefined shape, sucking a bright, blue light out of her. It took me a moment to realize this was her soul. Sickened, I tried to force myself to look away, but could not. I had heard of this phenomenon before, a powerful monster leaving behind a remnant of its soul after being defeated. I could not tell whether this was the wraith of the spider or whatever was in the gem, because while the spider was the ugliest thing I’ve ever fought, it wasn’t the strongest. But I never usually stick around where we kill monsters. It is an adventurer’s worst fear, having their soul devoured by a spirit, for it keeps them from passing on to the afterlife.”  
My father and I shivered, both thinking the same thought.  
“I spent two days watching this awful apparition draw closer and closer, stealing the lingering souls of my beloved friends. Every time I closed my eyes, even for a moment, I never thought I was going to open them again. Absorbing souls is a slow process for such a weak spirit, apparently. But it was getting stronger with each soul it took, and I knew it was saving me for last. When it was on the last body, and I knew my time had come, I saw something I never expected to see; a torch. And with this torch was my savior, the man who will be your mentor. He fought the apparition, and it was one of the most confusing and amazing things I cannot even begin to explain, but he won, and after freeing my party’s spirits, guided their passage to their respective gods. When he was finished, he walked over to me, and making sure my bandages were secure, hoisted me onto his back.  
And I will tell you this Son, for I am not afraid to admit, I cried. I sobbed like I have never done before. But I kept asking this man, why? Why did you save me? I don’t deserve to live when the rest of my friends died, and all because I could not protect them. The man stopped, and put me down, looked me into my eyes, and said this, ‘I will not presume to judge whether this is your fault or not, I know not the situation. But I will tell you this; you are alive. Whether you like it or not, I will take you back to the town and you will live. After I leave you in the healer’s care, what you do with your life, whether you want to continue living it or not, is up to you. But I want you to ask yourself, what would your friends want?’ I could tell the man had do this many times before, and his words hit home. As we were exited the cave, I told him there was nothing I could ever do to repay this favour, but if there was anything he needed, anything he wanted, to just ask. As he was getting us situated on his horse, he stopped for a moment, and pondered this question.  
‘An apprentice. I need someone to take my place when I am gone and I like the idea of retirement.’”  
At this point my father got up from his chair, walked over to mine, and got on his knees, something extremely difficult for him and something I have only seen him do once before; when my mother passed away. He took both my hands, enveloped them in his, and looked me in my eyes.  
“You wish to be an adventurer for the fighting, no?” I nodded. “I will not act like I know anything about being a ****, but I think it is safe to say there will be plenty of that. I owe this man my life, and by extension, you yours. I made a promise to him, and I intend to keep it, even if I must beg my own son to do so. So, I beg of you son, please, become the ***’s Apprentice.”


End file.
